


Standing Still

by captainflintsjacket



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Depression, McKirk Reader/Friendship, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 19:14:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20441099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainflintsjacket/pseuds/captainflintsjacket
Summary: Depression creeps back up on you, but, luckily, Bones and Jim are there to help.





	Standing Still

You’d been on the Enterprise too long now, and you were starting to feel it weighing you down despite the lightness of the artificial gravity. You had hoped your last shore leave would help center you again, but you took it in Yorktown, and the fake sun did little to warm the chill that seemed permanently settled in your bones. Where you used to marvel at the advancement of technology, you shunned it now, wishing more than anything to feel the old Earth’s sun on your face and its grass between your toes.

Everyone told you you were lucky to be stationed on the Enterprise - especially for a five year mission. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Something that has never been attempted before in Starfleet history. You were a part of something bigger now, and you weren’t sure you wanted to be. You missed your friends, your family. You missed so much.

I’m lucky, you told yourself. There are cadets who dream of serving on the Enterprise, or even getting a chance to talk to Captain Kirk, let alone be friends with him. You’re lucky. Still, as you pulled on your yellow dress uniform, you didn’t feel lucky. You felt tired.

Jim noticed something was off right away. You were late that morning, only by a few minutes, but he couldn’t remember it ever happening before.

“My delinquent behavior finally rubbing off on you,” he smiled, trying to lighten your mood. You hummed in response, not taking your eyes off your work station. You missed Jim’s smile falter behind you. He tried periodically to keep you entertained, to pull even a little chuckle from you, but nothing seemed to work, and your shift ended with Jim considerably flustered. He expressed his concerns to Bones, who called you in for an exam that you promptly ignored.

It’s nothing, you messaged Bones back. I’m fine, doll. xo. Easier to fake it through a message. You knew Bones would be too busy to check up on you with the last bout of flu that quarantined a good chunk of the ship.

The next morning, you woke to a message on your PADD saying Jim had given you the day off. You were flying through empty space, and he was confident Sulu could handle it on his own while Chekov recovered in Medbay. You immediately replicated yourself some hot chocolate and curled up in a cocoon of blankets with your favorite book. You got through almost ten pages before you realized you weren’t even reading it. You sighed and set the book aside, staring at the walls instead. It felt like they were closing in on you.

When you took another sip from your cocoa, it was cold. You couldn’t quite say how long you’d been sitting there, but, judging by the cramps in your legs, it must’ve been a couple hours. You tied your hair up in a messy bun and pulled out an old Starfleet sweater and a pair of joggers, feeling sick at the yellow of your uniform, and walked up to the bridge.

Jim studied you with a worried look set deeply into his features. He’d never seen you out of uniform on the ship unless you were in your quarters. “Everything okay, Y/N?”

You nodded back at him, not having the energy to speak. Before he could say anything else, you climbed onto his lap, curling up against his chest. You buried your face in the crook of his neck and held tightly to the front of his shirt.

He rubbed your lower back with one hand, bringing the other up to brush the hair from your face. “What’s wrong?”

“Bored and lonely,” you mumbled, shifting slightly so you could see out the viewing window. You caught a few worried glances from some of the other crew members and your throat started burning. You focused on the blackness of space, letting the emptiness fill you and take you to sleep.

You woke up in Medbay, the soft beeping of the bio bed urging you awake. You were curled up under a blanket, trying to figure out how you got there when you heard voices outside.

“I’m telling you Bones, there’s something wrong.”

“And I’m telling you Jim I’ve run every damn scan I can think of and there’s not, so unless she can tell me her symptoms I’m letting her go. I have patients who actually need that bio bed.

The door slid open as you approached it, and Bones and Jim looked at you sheepishly. Jim started to say something but you cut him off. “I’m not fucking sick, James.” You didn’t even look at Bones, storming out of Medbay and back to your room.

You wished more than anything that you could slam the door, but all you could do was punch in your code and bolt inside, tears already blurring your vision. You felt like you were caving in on yourself, like you couldn’t breathe. You locked your door before bolting to the bathroom and dry heaving into the toilet. A sob wracked your body next, and you pressed your face against the cool rim of the toilet seat, trying to get some grounding while the room spun around you.

You’re a nuisance. A goddamn waste of space. Another sob. You heard how annoyed Bones was. Probably sick of you showing up all the time when nothing’s wrong with you.

“I’m not a waste,” you mumbled back. “They’re my friends. They’re my friends.”

Some friend you are yelling at Jim like that.

“I’m trying.” You cradled your knees to your chest, crying into your arms. You just wanted your head to shut up. There was so much noise. So much static.

You stayed like that long after the crying stopped, working up the energy to eat something. The thought alone made your stomach turn, so you punched in for some tortilla chips and ate them plain, sitting on the ground with your back to the wall. You heard knocking on the door but ignored it, eyes focused on studying a stain on the floor a few feet away. You crunched the chips absently.

“Y/N,” a voice at your side said firmly. You jumped, looking up to come eye to eye with Bones.

“Jesus, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Bones furrowed his brow. “Y/N I’ve been standing here damn near five minutes. Have you heard anything I said?”

Your gaze dropped back to the floor as your inner monologue whirred back to life. Fuck up. Fuck up. Fuck up. With nothing to say, you popped another chip into your mouth.

Bones watched you for a moment before walking over to your replicator. “You should get some real food in you. Something healthy.”

“Shouldn’t you be with the patients who are ‘actually sick’,” you snapped, mimicking him. And you wonder why no one likes you. You chomped hard on a chip, drowning out the voice.

Bones sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s not what I meant by that, Y/N.”

“But I’m not sick, so why should I be there? I’m the picture of perfect health. I’ve got a perfect job, perfect friends, and a perfect fucking life. I should be the happiest person in the whole goddamn ‘verse.”

“But you’re not.” A fact, not an accusation. Then silence. You let the comment weigh on you, losing the energy to even chew.

“No.”

Bones sighed and slid down the wall next to you. He fiddled with his hands, not quite sure what to do next. In your time knowing each other, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him nervous before. You leaned over and put your head on Bones’ shoulder. He shifted to wrap an arm around you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. The two of you sat like that in silence until Bones finally found the words he needed.

“I went through your file,” he confessed. You tensed under his gaze but said nothing. “You have a history of depression, unmedicated. Is that what this is?” He motioned to your attire and the chips in your lap.

You shrugged. “Probably.”

“I want to help.”

“You can’t.”

“I know I’m a doctor not a shrink, but I can still prescribe medication. We can start you with a selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor, see if that helps with your symptoms. If not, we can try some other medication when we get back to base.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want medication.”

“Sugar, I know it’s scary but it’s tried and true. The best way to combat depression is a mix of talk therapy and medication, and since you’re already not talking we’ve got to start somewhere.”

You shook your head again, chest tightening. “People will say I’m crazy,” you choked out.

“They won’t,” Bones said, stroking your hair. “And even if they did Jim and I’d kick their asses.” You remained quiet. Bones pulled you up on his lap, wrapping both arms around you and burying his face in your neck. “You know we love you, kid, right? We’re always here if you need to talk. About anything - even if it’s just about how shitty the damn replicators are.” You let out a chuckle at that, and Bones smiled against your shoulder, squeezing you gently.

“I know, Bones.” You held him tightly, breathing in the scent of pine beneath layers of the sterile smell that came with Medbay. For the first time in a few days, your mind was quiet.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr @trade-baby-blues


End file.
